Degrees of Equivalence
by anotherFMAfan
Summary: As Hawkeye and Mustang make plans for the future, Riza must close the previous chapter of her life. EdXRiza, RoyXRiza. Rated for sex references and language.


_Degrees of Equivalence_

When Riza Hawkeye arrived home, she knew instantly that Edward was inside. If the muddy boot-tracks leading from her lawn to her door weren't evidence enough, the boots responsible were sitting right inside the door, on the square piece of tarp she had provided for that use. She straightened them slightly before continuing inside, closing the door behind her. As she hung her coat in the closet, she heard commotion from the bedroom, and wondered what he could be up to. She sincerely hoped it didn't involve alchemy; they'd already had a very serious talk about performing that art in her house, and she thought her sincerity had sunk in, if the look on his face and his vigorous head-nodding were any indication.

Riza filled the kettle and lit the burner beneath it, pleased to be home for the day. Things were tense around the office lately, and she privately longed for the end of the quarter, where they would get a small respite. She set out two cups on the counter- Edward had developed a liking for tea that rivaled her own somewhere during the year they'd lived together- and set out to find her lover.

He was indeed in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, sorting through the drawers of the dresser beside it. Next to him lay a cardboard box, which was already almost full with various belongings of his, collected from throughout the house. Riza frowned, coming to a halt in the doorway. She had been expecting it for a while, but she didn't think he would leave so soon, and she certainly didn't think he'd have the foresight to take his things with him. Ed closed the final drawer and turned to set the contents into the box, spotting her in the process.

"Hi, Riza," he said, smiling a little. Her brow furrowed further. Edward Elric did not smile only a little; his smiles were huge grins or smirks, or not there at all. He was the only person she had ever known to be able to grin gently.

She nodded to the box.

"Going somewhere?"

"Not really," he said, looking back to the dresser, where he began to pick up his few remaining possessions from the top. "Just clearing things out."

"Any particular reason?"

He paused in his work, gazing down at the last item in his hand, and shrugged.

"Mustang invited me out to lunch, told me about your plans."

Hawkeye closed her eyes briefly as anger swelled in her breast. _Damn you, Roy_, she thought. _Damn __you_. She had told him that they needed to wait, that Edward would move on of his own volition in a few months, or find some pretty young woman to occupy him, and be spared any hurt. Instead the colonel had handled it in the worst way possible…the way that would hurt Ed the most.

"It's okay," Edward said quietly, and she opened her eyes to find him smiling broadly and confidently at her, the same _everything-is-fine_ expression she'd seen him use on his brother in times of trouble. "I'm not upset or anything."

Riza smiled fondly at him. Edward had always lied if he believed it would protect the people he loved. In the kitchen the kettle shrieked, and he nodded toward it. Riza complied, and she heard Edward move to the bathroom to remove his toothbrush, his hairbrush, hair-ties…oil for his metal joints…. She smiled at that thought and felt the first wave of nostalgia, surprisingly strong.

Turning down the flame on the stove, Riza lowered the tea-ball inside and swirled it around. She watched as dark wisps of color began to stain the water a deep brown, then closed the top to let it steep. She crossed her ankles and leaned against the counter, her eyes drawn to the wall that hid Edward from her view.

Yes, she would miss him. She would miss that oil smell in the bathroom, miss his muddy boots by the door, miss the random assortment of objects from his pockets on top of the dresser. She'd miss the way he bitched about the colonel in a way she never could in good conscience. She wouldn't find books in the bed anymore, wouldn't hear him curse her showerhead (just a bit out of his reach), wouldn't feel his hair through her fingers, wouldn't taste his mouth, wouldn't ever feel him inside of her again….

Hawkeye sighed and dropped her gaze to the floor. Is she was honest with herself, she would miss their lovemaking perhaps most of all. She'd had sex with other men in the past, and knew what it was about: desperation and passion and urgent need. But to Edward, sex was a game-- the only goal of which was to feel good and have fun. His attention to her was absolute and out of genuine enjoyment, rather than obligation, and he was naturally the type to want to improve with every go; she had thoroughly enjoyed his attempts to out-do himself. Frequently Ed liked to draw things out past the point of most men's -and sometimes even her own- patience, to spend hours at it and grin the whole time. She loved the way he laughed when he slowed, denying the finish yet again. It was a bouncy, self-deprecating little belly laugh that always made her want to laugh with him, no matter how sexually frustrated she was at the time. Riza would never hear that laugh again…some other woman would.

Again the slight sadness tugged at her. She had been the first and only one to be with Edward, and she now had to get used to the idea of other women in his life. But other women didn't know him like she did, didn't understand his past and his goals; how could Edward ever be himself with them? Would they know, or even have the guts, to pull him from the library and make him eat and sleep? Would they understand when he dashed up to Resembul to check on his brother's health? Would they even be able to see past his rough behavior, designed to protect himself, to what a beautiful person he was? How gentle and caring he could be, despite that he'd been hurt far too many times….

Her wistful expression darkened to anger as she thought on the hurt he would bear today. If Mustang had waited, like she'd instructed, Edward would have no reason to feel hurt—he would wander off and then, some weeks later, would hear they were dating. Instead he had all but stolen her out from under Ed, before he was ready, and might as well have added, _Oh, and by the way, she didn't care for you, she loved me, but how nice that she pitied you enough to take you on_. Mustang was a sore spot for Edward any day, but this was a strike that would bleed for a long, long time. She and Edward had become lovers long before Roy began to show signs of reciprocating her love, and it wasn't fair or kind of Roy to do it like that.

Edward emerged from the hallway carrying his overflowing box, and held up a book.

"Is it okay if I borrow this for a while? I can bring it back to the office when I'm done," he said, working to sound casual and almost succeeding.

"You can keep it, Edward," she assured, pushing off from the counter.

"Thanks," he said, and set the box down near the door. She smiled again to see him sit on the floor like a little boy to pull on his boots, and remembered the first day he'd spent at her apartment, such a long time ago….

They weren't _passionately in love_, of course, but they cared for each other in their own way, as friends and lovers. They had a fun, happy, and very comfortable relationship, and Riza had enjoyed it. She found herself wishing she didn't have to see him go, wishing that he could remain her roommate until she and Roy got married, and still stay close friends after that, but…well, such a thing was too much to ask of even a heart as big as Edward's. She didn't want to be the source of any more hurt for him.

He stood, brushed a lock of hair out of his face, and looked her squarely in the eye. Edward never was one to shrink back in the face of pain.

"I think that should be everything. If I forgot anything, you can just bring it to the office…or throw it out," he said with a shrug.

Riza wanted to tell him she was sorry, but she knew Edward hated pity. She wanted to tell him that she'd told Mustang not to say anything, but that would just imply that she had been deceiving him and that she'd been impatiently awaiting his departure. She wanted to tell him how much she had enjoyed their time together and what an amazing man he had become, but it was too little and too late. Even that would likely be misinterpreted now.

Edward gave her that small smile again, as they stood there before the door. He had grown a lot since she'd first met him, and was almost taller than she was, but somehow he seemed so small, in that moment. He stepped forward a bit, knowing better than to go beyond the edge of the mat before the door in his boots, and she moved forward to meet him. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I'll miss you," she told him, wrapping her own arms around his waist.

"I'll miss you, too."

They stood there for a few moments, and Riza knew it was the last time he would hold her. The last time any man aside from Roy would. As if sensing her thoughts, he added softly,

"And congratulations."

"Thank you."

They drew apart, and this time Edward's wide smile was familiar. _Everything is fine!_

He picked up the box and opened the door.

"See ya, Reez," he said, as though he were simply going out for a walk. She smiled.

"Goodbye, Edward."

The door closed.

It was over.

Riza picked up the square of tarp and slid it into the trashcan (Roy would refuse to have his boots anywhere near the thing) and walked back into the kitchen slowly, deep in thought. Absently she lifted the kettle and poured the tea, only to realize a moment later she had poured some for the man who had just left. Covering her eyes with her hand for a moment, she laughed bitterly, but couldn't really bring herself to dump it out. Hawkeye took a sip of her tea and felt lonely. Just one cup from now on—Mustang drank coffee. She thought again over Edward and everything she would miss, right down to her ridiculous nickname, and couldn't help but feel she was losing her best friend.

Yet if Edward had taught her anything in those lazy moments draped in bed, or spirited discussions over a cup of Earl Grey, it was that in order to gain something, you had to give something up. The exchange had to be some degree of equivalent. As she looked around her empty, bland apartment, she thought,

_You had better be every damn thing I've ever wanted, Roy, because I'm giving up a hell of a lot._


End file.
